Aswed

Dare to speak the holy words Then I shall make of you a prophet, A man, a valiant and plucky man A man who dares to defy A man who dares to thrive A man with honour But for now, you're a mere weakling Quivering beneath your fur coat Quivering before the aged eyes of an old man And do not try to deny it, do not try to delude me Because I know you Oh I know you, more than you'll ever know. You see, Son I've been living in this cabin for fifty years now And I've seen all kinds of men I've seen all kinds of women But you're from the worst kind The kind that I execrate and loathe the most You're too proud of who you are You're too stuffed with self-love That some days or perhaps some nights It blinds you and sometimes you're too blind To even see that you're blind. Now as you quiver, I can see your whole life, beliefs, ambitions And all the things you've built with your bare hands Quivering too with you Right now Yes Right here Before me. I can see at some point of your life You began entitling yourself as an artist, didn't you ? But are you ? Are you really an artist, a vigorous creator ? Or are you just another trivial and paltry imitator Who seeks crowds and their unavailing appreciation ? Ô Son Aspire to become a god Aspire to become your own prophet Dare to walk beside men as a prophet Dare to stand before men as a prophet Who seeks solely believers and their genuine love. Eventually after years or maybe decades Perhaps you'll understand how to be true, How to be you ! And when you do Come Come to me again Then perhaps I shall make of you A man. . . . . . Picture by Mari Lezhava.